


Homecoming

by CuriosityRedux



Series: Dragon Drabbles Berk [57]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Hiccstrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 04:14:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16757470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CuriosityRedux/pseuds/CuriosityRedux
Summary: Hiccup's been waiting a long time for this.





	Homecoming

**Homecoming**

**-**

Hiccup’s hands tapped restlessly against the ship’s side. Sailors at work snuck glances at their tense chief as they carried out their duties, making comments under their breaths about his stiff posture, his clenched jaw. Some rolled their eyes at the young man’s impatience. Others chuckled and shook their head, digging their elbows into their neighbor’s ribs and joking about being young and hungry for home. 

A wooden hand fell on his shoulder. “Wondering if Berk’s still standing?” Gobber teased, wooden leg thunking against the floorboards of the deck. He gave Hiccup a gentle shake and leaned against the port side. 

The corner of the young chief’s mouth lifted wryly, but the half-grin didn’t reach his eyes. Scratching at his chin, overdue for a shave, he shook his head. “Nah. I know Astrid’s enjoying ruling with an iron fist. And Eret’s there to  _wrangle_  anyone who gives her trouble.”

Gobber snorted. “Good lad, him.” After a beat, he asked, “Is it Toothless yer anxious ta see, then?”

Hiccup shrugged. The tug at his heart didn’t disprove his mentor’s question. It’d been months since he’d been able to fly, and he’d be lying if he said his feet weren’t starting to feel like lead. “Yeah. I miss him. I miss everybody.”

Nodding, the blacksmith absently tongued the gold tooth in his jaw. “What’s eatin’ at yeh, then?”

The waves slapped incessantly against the ship’s hull, the sails thwacking and popping with gusts of wind. The acrid scent of the open sea was beginning to make his stomach turn, and his cheeks were chapped from the salty spray. Inside his vest, a worn and creased letter burned against the sore beat of his heart. 

“Thinking about Dad,” Hiccup confessed. He sighed and leaned onto his forearms, lacing his fingers together. “Growing up with a chief… Now  _being_  a chief…”

"Ahhh.” Gobber patted the black furs clasped around Hiccup’s shoulders. The sign of his status only donned for diplomatic meetings. “Mantle feeling heavy?”

Squinting at the horizon, the younger man nodded. “I just keep thinking— all those months he was gone and I stayed with you. Nights spent waiting up for him. Waking up, and he’s already gone for the day.”  _Absent_ wasn’t quite the best word for it, in a village as small as Berk. But there was certainly an aspect of  _missing in action_  to be said of a chief’s parenting. 

“It’s nae an easy job.” The Viking wiped his forehead on his sleeve.

There was no humor in Hiccup’s laugh. “You don’t have to tell  _me_.” His fingers slid against each other, feeling the callouses from a blacksmith’s grip, dry and cracked sea skin. “I just. I missed him a lot. It’s not easy being a chief’s kid either.”

“Fair enough.”

Hiccup shifted his gaze to his mentor’s face and gave him a sincere, sad smile. “I don’t want my kids to miss me. I don’t want them to feel like they didn’t get enough time with me after I die.”

There was a flash of grief in the old man’s eyes. Just a ghost of the pain that had crushed them all so sharply just a couple years ago. “I lived thirty years by Stoick’s side, and I’d still kill a man for just a few more days. Just worry about being there  _while yer there_.”

Exhaling heavily, Hiccup ducked his head. When he lifted it again, his chest still ached, but he could breathe a little easier. “Thanks, Gobber.”

“Aye. Chief.”

Despite the ocean’s unpredictable tempers, the Berkian ship made it home in record time. The crew seemed to pick up on their young leader’s urgency, and the winds were surprisingly favorable for the season. They were hardly completely docked before Hiccup threw a handful of commands over his shoulder and leapt clumsily off the ship. He was running before he was even fully righted. 

 _Gods_  it’d been too long. His heart pounded, strange flutterings he hadn’t felt since his wedding cartwheeling in his stomach. Villagers tried to greet him as he passed, but he could barely afford a distracted wave in his haste. He blew past excited dragons without so much as a pat. A laugh or two followed on his heels. 

He didn’t stop until he reached the Great Hall. His legs were rubbery, and the ground seemed to wobble after weeks spent on the sea. His lungs sizzled with effort. Taking a deep breath, he took a step forward to sprint up the steps, but then the heavy wooden doors slammed open.

“ _Hiccup!_ ”

Sunlight glinted off Astrid’s blonde hair, nearly as blinding as the beaming smile she was giving him. She flew down the stairs, one hand pressed to her rounded belly as Fishlegs followed with shouts of, “Don’t run, don’t run, don’t run!”

He felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a hammer. He had to take a step back to steady himself. His eyes raked down her figure, swollen with his child, and they started to burn. His arms were already trembling and open when she ran into them. 

Sweet kisses were hard and fast as she pressed them to his cheeks, his mouth, his jaw. “You’re  _home_!” she breathed, hands tangling in his hair. It’d be knotted with braids before the sun was set. “Oh my gods, Hiccup, I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sorry.” He was taking her face between his palms, touching his forehead to hers. The line of her jaw was softer, and her tunic laid differently than it did last time he’d seen her. Shaking his head, he tried to control his hitching breaths as he glanced down at the curve of her stomach pressed against his. “I’m so sorry, Astrid. You’re beautiful— so beautiful. Are you okay? How do you feel? What have I missed?”

She swallowed down tears, blinking up at him with eyes bluer than either the sky or the sea. He thought he’d had enough blue, after so long spent stuck between those two, but he’d been so wrong.

“I’ll catch you up,” she laughed, her voice shaking. Reaching up to steal another hard kiss from his mouth, her hands found his and dragged them to her belly. “Feel— feel! He’s kicking like crazy! They said your ship was here and he just started flipping out. He— well, I don’t know that’s a boy, I just have this  _feeling_ — he has to know it’s you. He knows you’re home.”

She was a waterfall of words, of news, of ecstatic murmuring, but he wasn’t hearing any of it. The oxygen was being torn from his lungs. Against his palms, the most bizarre, weird, wonderful pressure kept nudging him from inside her womb. Everything hurt in a perfect, happy way. He was overwhelmed. 

"I’m  _so_ sorry,” he whispered, afraid his voice would crack if he raised it. “I should have come back as soon as I got the letter. I should have been here. I’m so sorry, Astrid, I should have  _been here_.”

She gave his wrists a gentle squeeze. There was no condemnation in her gaze, just love. “You’re here now,” she answered. Leaning into him, she ducked her face into his neck. “Just be here now.”

Never was there a duty he was more eager to fulfill.


End file.
